


Offer Me Alternatives (And I Decline)

by amathela



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Angst, Chair Sex, Community: whedonland, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-30
Updated: 2010-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-16 16:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amathela/pseuds/amathela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the end of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Offer Me Alternatives (And I Decline)

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to season two.

"It's not the end of the world," she says.

(She's always quite liked irony.)

-

Mr Dominic is adamant. It suits him.

"Ma'am," he says, and she likes the way the word sounds on his tongue. Even if it is a little out of place at this particular juncture.

"Mr Dominic," she says, because there's no use in clinging to formality, perhaps, and yet -

Perhaps there is.

"You may address me as Adelle," she says, and almost smiles. "At least for this evening."

He shifts; not uncomfortable, but considering.

"Ma'am."

It's an agreement of sorts, but on his own terms.

-

"Adelle."

Of course. To a man with whom she was worked for three years, she is Ms DeWitt. To a man with whom she has had but a passing acquaintance - and not a very pleasant one, at that - she is Adelle. As if he has the right.

(As if Mr Dominic does not.)

"Mr Broadhurst." She will maintain decorum, if he will not. "What a pleasure."

Mr Dominic's mouth quirks. As if she does not see him, though she rather thinks she was supposed to. She is an excellent liar - she prides herself on it - but perhaps he knows her too well.

It takes Mr Broadhurst rather longer to notice.

"You brought ..." he begins, as if he doesn't know how to go on.

Usually, she attends these functions alone. It has never been pleasant.

"A date," she finishes, when he does not. "Indeed. This is Laurence."

Mr Dominic doesn't shake hands - there was, after all, a reason why she brought him - and the toady little man in front of her doesn't attempt to kiss her cheek when he leaves.

-

"Ms DeWitt," he says, and it isn't until he amends it - _Adelle_ \- that she accepts the glass of wine he offers her.

He says nothing about the vintage (which is excellent), and she says nothing about the slightly bitter aftertaste.

-

And yet -

She drinks.

Before long, she forgets it was ever bitter to start with.

-

There are more; Rossum hounds in expensive suits and cheap comb-overs, each of them too familiar. Mr Dominic chases them away with a word, a gesture, a look.

She rewards him with a smile, and her hand lingers over his when he refills her glass.

"Do you think," she murmurs, "we could risk slipping out early?"

She doesn't mean it to be an invitation, but it is one nonetheless.

-

Nobody admonishes her for leaving early.

Mr Dominic's hand hovers at the small of her back, as if he is uncertain, still, about touching her.

-

She doesn't offer him a drink.

(They have never stood on pretense.)

His hand at her waist tugs her forward, her legs sliding over his, over the leather of her chair. All else is silent; surveillance footage flickers at the edge of her vision.

There is no longer any hesitation in his touch.

(She is almost surprised when he calls her _Adelle_ , even now.)

-

Her clothes are wrinkled, afterwards, but only a little.

"I'll have Judith send this to be cleaned," he says, fingertips running along the back of her chair. If she were being fanciful, she would say he looked almost reverent.

"Very good," she says. "Mr Dominic."

He doesn't look as if he minds the form of address.

(She wonders if she wanted him to.)

-

"Vodka?" she asks, and he doesn't decline.

-

Later, he will sit in the chair. Later -

He will be sent to the chair, and she will have it cleaned afterwards.

Later, he will claim it as his own, and she will pour a drink, and he will have shot her but missed the vodka. Thank god.

He will sit in her chair as if he has the right, and he will touch her as if he has the right, and she will pour a drink and pretend he does not, and it will be the end.

-

In the attic, he will dream of her chair, and pretend it means nothing.

(She will sit in her chair, and pour a drink, and pretend the end is not coming.)

-

She attends the next function alone.


End file.
